


Let the obsidian carry the light from my eyes

by kyoromii



Series: Doomsday but sideways [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Author is a Technoblade Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Author is a TommyInnit Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Doomsday but uh oh, Explosives, Freeform, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Introspection, Kinda, Phil is not the greatest father but he still cares, Regret, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Symbolism, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, but not blood related, found family typa beat, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29240856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoromii/pseuds/kyoromii
Summary: Where others were sparks,Tommy was a forest fire.orTommy is dying, and he only hopes he gets to see them one last time before he does.
Relationships: Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Doomsday but sideways [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146989
Comments: 25
Kudos: 544





	Let the obsidian carry the light from my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!! This is just another entry in a lil series Im doing. Its basically just my personal what ifs about doomsday. Also if it wasnt obvious I am a Tommy (and techno but thats not really relevant here) apologist asdasdksd Hope you enjoy this!

Tommy was always believed to be destined for glory. For all his bold naivety, the blonde was always made the ‘hero’ of the story; the protagonist. He was the exposition, the turning point, the conflict. His time in the SMP has been nothing less than eventful, and each breath that left his lips held the opportunity to spark change. He keeps the ball rolling, painting history in footprints as he makes his own in a world that is not his. He is both brash and rude, equal parts loud and unapologetic, yet inexplicably unassuming in spite of it. 

He’s always been underestimated and looked at with disdain, which he supposes he owes to the way he presents himself. One could find weakness in his apparent overconfidence and boastful tendencies. But the thing was, Tommy was only ever  _ joking.  _ He’s always made light of any circumstance he finds himself in, choosing the more humorous option over the more practical time and time again. He was completely fine being the punchline of a joke, and found solace in the absurdity and humor. He would try to convince others of his superior prowess for the sake of gaining a reaction. It was never for his ego, but he guesses he never really communicated that well.

+

_ A deafening boom registers in Tommy’s brain too late as he is thrown back on the obsidian platform. Time seems to slow in the moment, and his ears are ringing as he seems to be suspended midair. He is unsure if he screams when he finds himself crashing back towards the cold, purple blocks, but he is both comforted and devastated by the way the next few seconds play out in what feels like minutes. He can see the TNT combust in front of him, and he watches as he is propelled backward, debris chasing after him in slow motion. Tommy notes that it's as if the world was easing him into his demise, but he has no time to ponder on whether that's a good thing as he begins to make contact with the ground. Pain seizes up his spine first when he feels his tailbone collide with the ground. Then, he fearfully watches as debris shoots towards him, deadly and foreboding as they crawl towards him. He closes his eyes, he does not want to see it coming. He finds that he does not have to, when his head meets obsidian with a sickening crack and his vision goes dark. _

Tommy prides himself in his charisma, although unlike Wilbur’s knack for moving speeches and smooth talks, Tommy’s charisma is more persistence than charm. The teen had a penchant for weaseling himself out of things (and more often than not-  _ for  _ things) and he’s never been afraid to insist on something until it became true. He was astonishingly capable of making the unreasonable seem reasonable, and he wonders about all the times he told people he was a big man- the  _ biggest  _ man, even. And he wonders when they started to believe him.

_ Blue eyes meet the gray swirl of ash. The teen blinks as the ringing in his ears continue, body numb and sore but not excruciatingly painful. The atmosphere is almost swelteringly hot, and Tommy thinks that he can barely breathe because of it. However, as he tries to rise to sit, he is made aware that such is not the case. His body screams with a searing pain that sends him back down, and he is shocked to see what has become of said body.  _

_ Fresh, bloody burns litter his flesh, and he can’t help but think about how the gunpowder raining into those wounds doesn't help with the matter. His already tattered clothes are singed, and he cringes as he sees bits of cloth mixed with burnt flesh. He looks at his current state and wants to cry, because he can’t breathe and of course the burns weren’t enough. Tommy closes his eyes tight, holding back sobs. He lays his head back and refuses to open his eyes even when he coughs violently. Instead, he focuses on the backs of his eyelids, and he tries to ignore the rubble wedged between his ribs.  _

_ In the darkness of his mind, he wonders how he got here. _

_ + _

People always assumed Tommy would be okay. In the end, he was a constant and overbearing presence you could never get rid off, and his extraordinarily loud existence was something you had to learn to live with. Where others were sparks, Tommy was a forest fire. People look at him and see an unstoppable force that seemed to refuse to live by the same rules as everyone else.    
+   
_ ‘A different breed, one could say’ Tommy thinks, snickering himself into a flurry of red stained coughs. The smoke that hugs his environment begins to dissipate, and Tommy can faintly hear shouts in the distance, a mix of grief and rage swirling in the wind.  _

_ He desperately wishes he could get up and check on the others, see the carnage for himself and find comfort in the arms of his homeless-again-friends, but he physically can’t bring himself to.  _

_ Tommy almost laughs at that. While everyone is fighting for their lives and grieving for one they could have had, Tommy lays here, in a red puddle that reeks of ash; useless as a sitting duck. He thinks about something his brother once said, and finds a bittersweet satisfaction in the way he's proved him wrong. _

+

Tommyinnit was expected to die like a hero. To meet his maker in a flurry of dramatics and extravagance, when he has finally found contentment and earns his diamond studded ending. He is expected to go out with a bang, and though you could probably equate dying to explosives as such, it is not nearly the same. Because now, as he bleeds out on a cold obsidian grid, he is no hero. Instead, he is a boy. A sixteen year-old soaking in the shattered dream of a dead man he loved with his whole being, facing his own mortality with a shocking numbness. His limbs feel full of lead, and he weakly brings his hand to the obsidian his head rests upon, tracing his fingers through the blood that begins to pool there. Now, as his bleary eyes blink towards a sinking sun, he is no warrior. He does not find himself in the frontlines, fighting for glory on the winning side. Neither does he find himself in a moment of self-sacrifice for someone he loves. What he does find however is that this time he is no longer the unstoppable force he was always made out to be. Instead, he is but a casualty of war.

Tommy feels like he’s gone through the five stages of grief all at once within the past few minutes, and he thinks he’s come to terms with that fact that he’s going to die. He’s losing blood fast, and nothing besides a totem can save him now. He feels faint and weak, and he thinks about how easy it would be to slip away. But as much as he knows he’s going to die, doesn’t mean he’s ready yet. He still has something to say, so he pushes away the darkness that haunts his vision and continues to twirl his fingers in his personal bloodbath. He forces his eyes open each time they droop closed, and prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that somebody finds him before he goes. 

“..ommy?....TOMMY!”

Someone cries, and Tommy barely catches himself dozing off again. His vision fades in and out at random intervals, and Tommy barely registers as people begin to surround him. His eyes flicker shut for what he thinks is a second, before opening to a blurry visage of colors above him. His head is in someone’s lap, and as he tries to focus, he notices two hands pressed desperately against the place in his ribs where a large chunk of rubble used to be. He sees that the hands belong to a tuft of brown hair, and he barely manages a mumble. 

“T...tbbo?”

The hands on him tremble and he thinks he hears Tubbo speak to him. He’s saying something, screaming perhaps, but even as Tommy tries to focus on his mouth and read his lips, he cannot hear him. The blonde’s senses are fucked, and he exhausts himself trying to comprehend his surroundings. He hears muffled shouting, and he knows that Tubbo isn’t the only one here right now. There is panic in the air, and Tommy feels the faint brush of feathers on his arms. He forces his eyes open and sees the faintest glimpse of gray feathers in his periphery, that and a flash of pink opposite Tubbo.

It almost doesn’t register in Tommy’s mind that he’s in Phil’s lap, and that Technoblade was seemingly helping Tubbo in his fruitless attempt to keep the blood furiously pouring out of him in his body. But when it does, Tommy smiles. 

He was gonna die, but this was  _ his  _ silver lining. He never wanted to be a hero, and he wasn’t going to die like one. Instead, he wants to die as the boy that he is. He wants to die as a brother, a son, and a friend.

With all the strength he can muster, Tommy chooses to look at the people around him clearly one last time. He coughs, blood dribbling down his lips, and in spite of their protests lifts himself slightly. He weakly pries Tubbo’s hand away from his abdomen, squeezing it tightly. Then, he looks at his father with a smile, nuzzling his head into the lap it rests on. And finally, he looks to Techno, reaching his other hand out until he hesitantly grasps it.

Tommy’s chokes, coughing violently before an overwhelming wave of tiredness washes over him. He’s having a hard time breathing, but as he begins to lose control of his body, he has one last thing to say-

“...m….mso-sorry”

And he goes.

+

Among a cacophony of sparks, Tommyinnit is a forest fire.

And although the loss of L’manburg stings, 

Tommy leaves burns in his wake.

**Author's Note:**

> I really spedran this fic in like 2 hours so Im sorry for any mistakes. I just really wanted to get it out and was too excited hehehe. I might edit or revise this sometime but for now I hope you enjoyed! I'm currently lining up some ideas to write but if there's anything you'd like to suggest you can shoot a comment and I can put it in the queue HAHA


End file.
